


Happily Ever After or Worst. Fairytale. Ever

by dramady, edonyx



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, American Idol RPF, lambliff
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-20
Updated: 2010-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/edonyx/pseuds/edonyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b>  The basics: Handsome, gay prince; singing; woodland creatures.<br/><b>Authors' Notes:</b> Pure, unadulterated crack with an all-star, uncredited cast. Can <i>you</i> guess who's who? Less than flattering portrayal of Kesha. No offense meant. Just for the lolz! No animals were harmed in the writing of this fic.</p><p><b>Disclaimer:</b> This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happily Ever After or Worst. Fairytale. Ever

_Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince ... _

Yeah, it's gonna be one of _those_ stories. Got a problem with that? Huh?

Okay then.

_Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince._

He was so handsome that small woodland creatures stopped in their paths when they saw him coming.

Seriously. He was just _that_ handsome. Like old time movie star handsome. Tall. Black hair, blue eyes framed with dark lashes, broad shoulders, narrow hips, an eye for fashion and tall leather boots ....

Heh. See what we did there? "An eye for fashion"? The leather boots?

Yeah, the prince is gay, okay? Which isn't a staple in fairytales, we know. But that's what you're getting, a gay prince.

Which means he sings. In the woods. And the birds land on his shoulders and they sing along and the deer do, too. But not the raccoons. The raccoons are stubborn jerks.

But yeah.

The basics: Handsome, gay prince; singing; woodland creatures.

Got it? Good.

_One day, the handsome prince, whose name is Adam, takes his faithful horse, Sparky_ \- yeah, don't ask, we don't get it either - _ into the woods for a ride. He's feeling **restless**. His father is pressuring him to marry so make sure that the Kingdom remains strong._

See the problem there? Prince? Gay? Getting married? Yeah.

_There is much talk of the neighboring princess and Prince Adam making a lovely match, thus solidifying the sovereignty of both Kingdoms. The princess is a young and vivacious lass with long blond hair and a tendency toward free-spiritedness..._

Which means she's a loud-mouth, okay? What did the King and Queen expect naming her Kesha? Who names a princess Kesha? What happened to good old names that end in -ella? Or just descriptor names like "Sleeping Beauty"?

Kesha. Honestly.

_But Prince Adam, though fond of Princess Kesha, having grown up with her, felt no stirrings of love toward her._

Yeah, because she stirred love with _everybody_. Get it? Princess Kesha is as loose as an old mare's gait.

What the hoity toity narrator (which is us, but see how we separate voices out there? Nifty, huh?) probably won't tell you is that Prince Adam is in love with the _stable boy_, Tommy.

Oh, the _horror_ if anyone knew.

It does explain why the Prince goes riding so often.

In fact, look over yonder. Here comes another horse and rider. Is it Kesha? The figure _is_ small and blond. But once he's closer, it's clear that it's Tommy, who's small and slight (okay, skinny), but he's cute with an upturned nose and a little Cupid's bow mouth that rarely smiles, but when he does ....

Look at how Adam is smiling. He climbs off Sparky, tethering the horse to a tree as Tommy rides up. "Hail and well-met!" greets the Prince, extending a hand to the stableboy.

The stableboy reins in his horse - a grey dappled colt named Smoke, (and it's a good idea to not talk about how much he hates castrating the horses. All part of the job). He dismounts and tethers Smoke next to Sparky, and the two horses bob their heads in equine greeting. He raises his hand to the Prince, flashing him one of those there-and-gone smiles. See? Even in the face of Royalty, Tommy is friendly but wary! And polite. After all, he's got much more to lose. "Hail, my Lord. How are you today?"

"Quite glad to see you, Tommy," answers the Prince, who, with a quick glance around at the neighboring hillside, deems it clear to pull the smaller man to his broad chest with a rakish smile and wandering hands. "I've had thoughts only of you," he tells the stableboy. "Do you want to know what I did?"

Uh-oh. This is bound to get a little graphic. If there are children in the room, now would be a good time to escort them out. This isn't your children's fairytale, kiddies.

"What I did when I thought of you?" The Prince clarifies.

Really. We mean it. It's an R-rated fairytale for a reason. All clear? No peeking?

Okay, then.

"When I was alone, in my chamber? And thinking about you?" Adam queries.

(Dude, we get it. Geez.)

Tommy gets it, too. Loud and clear. Clear! "What did you do, my Lord? When you thought of me. By yourself. In your chamber."

When that damn stablehead isn't around to give Tommy a thwack on the back of the head for looking sullen or daydreamy, or both, the stableboy is a little _flirt._ Who knew?

Well, Adam does.

Tune in, friends. This'll be worth it.

"Well." With the small body curved to his, Adam leans down, whispering into Tommy-the-stableboy's ear words that make Tommy's cheeks flame red and makes the Prince grin.

.... That's it?

That's all we're getting? After all that build-up we gave?! "Whispering words that make the stableboy blush?!"

_Fail_.

_When the Prince lays the stableboy in the fragrant undergrowth of the hillside, the birds sing sweetly, but avert their avian gaze discreetly._

Worst. Fairytale. Ever.

Some time later .... 

_When it is deemed advantageous, the King and Queen decide to hold grand ball to announce Prince Adam's impending nuptuals to Princess Kesha ... _

Two guesses as to how Prince Adam is feeling, and the first one doesn't count. He's taken Sparky deep into the forest where he uses his rapier to whack cruelly at innocent trees who, had they words, would call the Prince names that look like $*%*$*$#! but with letters instead. That is where the stableboy finds him.

"My Lord." Which translates roughly to 'I know you're pissed off, but the trees don't deserve to be whacked like that', as Tommy lets Smoke canter up behind Sparky. "What are you going to do?" Because really, there isn't anything Tommy can do, being a mere stableboy and having all of the governing power of a mouse. And not those magic mice that worked on You-Know-Who's blue dress. You know, the one with the glass shoes? And how she danced in those is beyond _anyone._ Honestly. Who wears glass shoes?

_The young stablehand has been sent to fetch the woeful Prince, in hopes of bringing back both Adam and the steed he rides on, so that Sparky may be used to draw the carriage in which Queen-to-be Kesha will make her entrance._

Kesha's kind of a slut. We know this. Adam knows this, Tommy knows this. It's already been established. Old mare, remember? Anyway.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way." Tommy dismounts and takes one of Prince Adam's wrists, stilling the motion. "Give Sparky a rest. We'll walk the horses back to the castle."

We all know that that will take longer, obviously. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

And, honestly, what we'll say now is that Tommy should _really_ know better than to make wishes in forests in magical kingdoms, because there's _always_ someone listening. Usually, like, Maleficent or that scummy old witch from Snow White. At any rate, it's bad news.

Specifically, this time, it was a troll with a soul patch who granted this particular wish, to have the love of the Prince. Don't ask.

What? Trolls can grant wishes. Are you anti-troll?

...

Sorry. You just hit a raw nerve is all. Trolls get a bad rap, you know? #teamtroll! Anyway.

"I do not wish to go back," the Prince sulks. His friends, the deer, now safe from being made accidental venison steaks, come closer. "I do not wish to marry Princess Kesha, Tommy. I know I cannot marry you." It was a royal decree #8 back in the day. "But why can I not be single and dally with you in the fields?"

"The last time we dallied in the fields, I lay on a thistle. A bed is much better suited for such things."

Royal Decree #8 had been made on a Wednesday, for the record. Back in the day. It's always a Wednesday, it seems.

"I know you do not wish to marry Princess Kesha. She brays like a horse and spreads like an eagle," says Tommy.

What an ungentlemanly thing to say! For shame. But Tommy's only an illiterate stableboy, and he can be forgiven for that.

_The young stableboy offers his hand to the Prince, to guide him through undergrowth that can be dark and treacherous for one who travels on foot, in hopes to return him safely to the castle where the King and Queen await._

Actually, Tommy's holding Prince Adam's hand because he likes the feel of the Prince's skin, knowing how those hands can move on his body. Oh, yeah, baby. Except for the thistle thing, because that really hurt, once Tommy wasn't all jelly-limbed and grinning and flushed anymore. Have you ever laid on a thistle? Two thumbs down!

But speaking of being flushed and grinning...

"Shall we take a little more time to ourselves? I'm sure the horses would like to graze..." Tommy raises an eyebrow at Prince Adam, and that's the only giveaway that his intentions are less than chaste.

_Alas, when the stableboy doesn't return with the Prince promptly, a search party is sent. Oh, but the surprise and shame when the two men are discovered flagrantly in the fragrant undergrowth ... _

Okay, so while the Prince clearly didn't expect to be found _en flagrante_ with fingers and other protuberances ensconced in the body of the lowly stableboy, maybe you did. After all, what would a fairy tale be without conflict?

Tommy's yanked off in one direction, his clothes still askew and Adam is pulled in the other. There are shouts and threats and a gallows is set up for the stableboy. The Prince is barred in his room, ordered to dress for the ball, like it or not. He _will_ marry Kesha and not embarrass his family ever again.

Whatever is going to happen now?!

_The Kingdom is torn. The glory of the ball contrasted by the gallows that stands outside the stable. There are few to watch the end of the lowly stableboy. Except for a half-hidden troll_.

A troll, you say?

_The stableboy's expression is stoic, showing no shame for what he'd been caught doing with the Prince of the Kingdom. He stands on the trap door, chin lifted, eyes closed, ready for the fate that his heart had brought him to._

Romantic, huh? Ready to die for Prince Adam.

Truth? Tommy's scared shit out of his mind. Who wouldn't be, right?

He's been present for more than one hanging, and well, let's just say they don't always go smoothly. Sometimes ankles need to be grabbed and pulled on, and there was that one disgusting time that the thief's head had popped off like a dandelion. The rope had been too long. Squirty blood! Vomiting children! Fainting women!

"Well," gruffs the stableman from the neighboring kingdom, roped into hangman duty for the day. "I've a stallion to re-shoe. Let's get on with it, then."

Is this how it is to end? The Prince sobbing in his fine velvet and silk and the stableboy with his head popped off?

Worst. Fairytale. Ever.

But wait! What's this?! The troll steps from the shrubbery and hands the stableman a scroll!

A scroll, you say?!

Yes! A scroll! From a troll! A rolled scroll! From a droll troll....

Okay, we'll stop.

_The stableman takes the scroll, giving the troll a vicious kick to the hindquarters to send it scuttling back before he unrolls the scroll. Alas, and unsurprisingly, the stableman, as is standard for people of his time, cannot read. A herald is sent for even as the rope is set around young Tommy's neck_.

A harried herald arrives and unrolls the troll's scroll (ha!) and scans it quickly.

"Bloody hell!" The herald exclaims. "Is it true?!"

The scroll, you see, says that the stableboy Tommy is rightful heir to the thrown of another neighboring Kingdom. A vindictive witch had taken the baby in a fit of pique against that King. Oh, my!

Despite the impending start of the ball, the King is sent for and he arrives in all of his finery, glaring at both the stableboy and the scroll. "Phoo," he finally mutters. "Let him go. He's not to come back to our land ever again! Escort him away!"

_In that way, young Tommy is saved, taken to the boundary of the King's land and left to make the rest of his journey on his own, his only company the lowly troll, thought by all at the ball to be dead._

It's pretty blatant bullshit, to be honest. Dead? That's a pretty rough rumour to dispell, in a time of ghosts and vampires, witches and trolls. No offense, troll. We know you granted the wish, but right now it's like looking through a glass darkly. Tommy doesn't have anything except Mr. Troll and the clothes on his back, and a whole lot of walking ahead of him to a destiny he'd never anticipated.

"I wish I had a horse," Tommy mentions to the troll. "And thank you for saving my neck at the last moment. I had no wish to swing in the breeze like an ornament."

As with all fairy tales, there's a great forest that Tommy has to go through before reaching his own kingdom, and it's getting dark. Let's just get it straight: Tommy's not afraid of the dark, alright? But being this close to a forest when it's getting dark? Not high on his list of Likes.

_The freed stableboy-cum-prince finds shelter under a tree on the outskirts of the forest, letting the soft grass cushion him as he leans back against the bark. His eyes close, and all he can think of is the unhappiness of Prince Adam, who must be distraught at the idea that his stableboy - his lover - is dead._

"Ahem."

Tommy doesn't stir. (It was a long walk, okay?)

"AHEM!"

When the stable boy opens his eyes, he sees two winged creatures with their hands on their hips as they flutter in the air. "Have you forgotten?" They ask in unison. "You have to attend the ball!"

"Of all things holy!" Tommy exclaims, and the roughest translation we can manage is "What the fuck?!" The troll took a little getting used to, mind, but Mr. Troll, as it turns out, has a penchant for dirty jokes about Princess Kesha, and that makes him an a-okay-goodbuddy in Tommy's books.

Or tomes. Since it's a fairy tale and all. Not that Tommy can read. But you get the point.

Where were we? Oh yeah, Tommy being surprised awake.

"The _ball?_ But... they all think that I am dead. I'm just a stableboy who plays the lyre. Or, rather, a prince, now." Mr. Troll gets a glance. "I've been exiled."

"... and?" Says the smaller fairy. "You're a _prince!_ Get up off your ass! We've got threads!"

They are very modern-thinking fairies. One of them sewed his little fae fingers to the bone to make the outfit too! It's got a cape. And strategic cut-outs, and the outfit flops to the ground next to Tommy; leather, silk and ... are those _wings?_ "This is couture," he's told. "Appreciate it."

The troll just shrugs, muttering something about fairies.

They _are_ modern thinking fairies, and that's something an old-fashioned Prince-loving boy like Tommy isn't used to. But he sheds his clothes, dirty with the dust of walking such a long distance, and tries on this couture-outfit, complete with wings, and stands there like a sheep, waiting for the fairies' approval as they buzz around him, fixing his hair and giving him a clean shave.

_The clothing the new Prince wore **shone** on him, truly revealing his regal heritage, though the defeated slump of his shoulders bore a different tale. He would not be accepted back in the King's Court for the ball; he'd been exiled for performing flagrantly sexual activities with Prince Adam._

"How will I get back in time?" Tommy asks, looking down at the fine leather that covers his legs. "I have neither horse nor carriage." Unbeknownst to Tommy, the expression he wears is nothing short of pathetic, and he turns big brown eyes on Mr. Troll.

Muttering again, this time about Princes who can't do _anything_ for themselves, the troll stomps off into the into the forest, only to return a few minutes later, the fairies trailing after him as he drops a fieldmouse at the new Prince's feet.

"Well, fix it!" The fairies trill at the troll.

"Blasted fairies!" But the troll gives the mouse a kick and _BLAM_, the mouse becomes a horse.

And there is much rejoicing from the fairies, who sprinkle the whole situation with glitter.

You see where this is going, right? So we can change scene.

_At the castle, Prince Adam sits slumped in a chair as the ball goes on around him. His gaze is inward-turned as he thinks of his dead lover. Bluebirds, chirping sadly, perch on the top of his chair, but there is no cheering the mourning Prince._

His soon-to-be-wife is nowhere to be found either. Two guesses as to where she is, the first one doesn't count. But at the raised murmur at the entrance to the courtyard, he stands. Could it _be?_

Well, duh.

Prince Tommy - really, it should be Thomas, but Tommy would throw an iron shoe at anyone who calls him Thomas - clops up on his mouse-horse, shimmering and glittering to outshine Princess Kesha herself. And where _is_ that girl, anyway? Still MIA. Whatever.

_The shining Prince dismounts from his noble steed, taking a moment to shake the dust-_

Glitter. Let's call it how it is, okay? It's glitter.

_-from his finery before announcing:_

"I have returned to the Kingdom as a royal dignitary, and wish to hold council with Prince Adam. It's well within my rights."

Well, he hopes it's within his rights. There was no royal decree made back in the day, was there? Let's check. Nope! Okay! We're good! Let's proceed.

Prince Tommy straightens his shoulders, forgetting that there are _wings_ on the back of his clothing, and lifts his chin. "Prince Adam! Let me see you!"

It would be all very dramatic were it not for the fact that Prince Adam is already _running_ through the crowd to where Tommy stands. Undead.

With wings.

"...wings?" Adam blurts out, before it doesn't matter anymore and he's gathering his lover up (which is harder than it looks with the wings). "I thought you dead!"

The troll, who'd had to hitch a ride on a stubborn raccoon, comes up with the handy scroll.

"What's this?" The Prince asks. The troll rolls his eyes and gestures with it again (eye-rolling troll with a scroll. &lt;.&lt;). Clearly, Adam is to read it.

Which he does.

"You're a _Prince_?!"

"If that is what the scroll says, then it's the truth," Tommy answers.

He doesn't want to admit he can't read. It's embarrassing, okay? Especially for a Prince. But Tommy's not embarrassed enough to not throw his arms around Adam and kiss him proper, the way a Prince should kiss a Princess.

Wait, who exactly _would_ be the Princess out of the two of them? And Princess Kesha's _still_ not here yet. That girl, goodness.

"If you and I are both of Royal blood, then there is nothing to say that we cannot be together." Tommy speaks against Adam's lips, amidsts the gasps and fibrillations of the court around them.

Gasps and fibrillations, huh? Only in a fairytale. Women fainting at the sight of mice (mouse-horses, anyone?), and people thinking black cats are evil. Silly superstitions!

And there is much rejoicing! The fairies are here, again, see, and they're cheering! Though one is wishing Prince Adam was just a _little_ bit gentler on the couture.

Well, it turns out that Tommy the illiterate prince is _right_. Adam's family has no choice but to accept this _unusual_ match.

_And they lived happily ever after_.

Well, okay, so not exactly. Adam does teach Tommy to read, though. And together, with the power of their Kingdoms behind them, they strike down Royal Order #8, declaring that Wednesday No H8 day.

And they still dally in the forest. And they wear fairy-crafted couture. And they let mice be mice. And the freaking raccoons _still_ won't sing with Adam. Princess Kesha does eventually marry a farmhand who's rumored to be virile between the sheets.

And, really, that is a pretty happy ending.

Until both Adam and Tommy's Kingdoms fall to the Huns, having no heir.

Can't have _everything_ can you? That would just be _selfish_.


End file.
